fire. Like someone else was in control of my movements, my hand slid from Heath's shoulder, down his chest, to rub over the hard lump that was in the front of his jeans. I sucked on his neck. Rational thought flew from my mind. All I could do was feel and taste and touch. Somewhere in the depths of my mind I knew I was reacting on a level that was almost ani malistic in its need and ferocity, but I didn't care. I wanted Heath. I wanted him like I'd never wanted anything in my life. "Oh, God, Zo, yes," he gasped and his hips started to thrust in time with my hand. Someone banged on the passenger's side window. "Hey! Y'all can't make-out here!" The man's voice jolted through me, shattering the heat that had been building inside me. I caught a glimpse of a security guard's uniform, and started to lurch away from Heath, but he tucked my head down into the side of his neck and turned his body so that the guard, who was obviously standing right outside the passenger's door, couldn't see me very well, and so that the blood that was dripping steadily from Heath's neck was com pletely hidden. "Did you kids hear me!" the guy bellowed. "Get out of here be fore I take your names and call your parents."
"No problem, sir," Heath yelled good-naturedly. Amazingly, he sounded perfectly normal, if a little breathless. "We're leaving."
"You better. I'm watching you two. Damn teenagers ..." he grumbled as he stomped away. "Okay, he's far enough away now that he can't see the blood," Heath said as he relaxed his hold on me. Instantly I jerked back, pressing myself against the door, as far away from Heath as I could get. With shaking hands I zipped open my purse and fished out a Kleenex, handing it to him with out touching him. "Press this against your neck so that it'll stop bleeding." He did as I said. I rolled down my window, clutched my hands together, and breathed deeply of the fresh air, trying to block the scent of Heath's body and Heath's blood from my mind. "Zoey, look at me."
"I can't, Heath." I swallowed down the tears that burned in the back of my throat. "Please just leave."
"Not until you look at me and listen to what I have to tell you." I turned my head and looked at him. "How the hell can you be so calm and normal-sounding?" He was still pressing the Kleenex against his neck. His face was flushed and his hair was messed up. He smiled at me, and I didn't think I'd ever seen anyone look so absolutely adorable.
"Easy, Zo. Making-out with you is totally normal for me. You've been driving me crazy for years." I'd had the whole I'm-not-ready-to-have-sex-with-you-yet conversation with him when I was fifteen and he was almost sev enteen. He'd said then that he understood and was willing to wait--of course that didn't mean that we didn't do some heavy making-out--but what had just happened in the car had been different. It was hotter, rawer. I knew that if I allowed myself to continue seeing him I wouldn't be a virgin much longer, and not because Heath would pressure me into it. It would be because I couldn't control my bloodlust. The thought scared me almost as much as it fascinated me. I closed my eyes and rubbed my fore head. I was getting a headache. Again. "Does your neck hurt?" I asked, peeking up at him through my fingers like I was watching a stupid slasher movie. "Nope. I'm fine, Zo. You didn't hurt me at all." He reached over and pulled my hand from my face. "Everything'll be okay. Stop worrying so much." I wanted to believe him. And, I suddenly realized, I also wanted to see him again. I sighed. "I'll try. But I really do have to go. I can't be late getting back to school." He took my hand in his. I could feel the pulse of his blood, and knew it was beating in time with my own heart, like he and I had somehow become internally synchronized. "Promise me you'll call me," he said. "I promise."
"And you'll meet me here again this week."
"I don't know when I can get away. During the week it's going to be hard for me." I expected him to argue with me, but he just nodded and squeezed my hand.